


Breaking Point

by Jacebruh



Category: Apex Legends (Video Games)
Genre: Character Death, Kidnapping tw, Nonbinary Character, Other, and death is pissed that their unnoficcial boyfrend is missing, beware the spelling errors, blood and injury tw, bloodhound is death, caustic is really only there for two seconds, caustic makes meth, drug tw, elliott gets kidnapped
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-04-10
Updated: 2019-07-30
Packaged: 2019-11-28 05:11:17
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 2,372
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18203972
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Jacebruh/pseuds/Jacebruh
Summary: Death had watched his birth. He was special to Death. Death was tied to him, but swore to never kill for his sake, but that might have to change.





	1. We have a situation.

I swear, I turned my back on him for five minutes to do my job. Five minutes, not six, not four, five. And what does he do? This asshole gets himself kidnapped.  
But that's cool, its fine. I can find him.

Elliott Witt lives in a small town, it should be easy to find him. People talk in small towns. They gossip about births, deaths, strange behavior, newcomers, and people who have recently moved. They know who lives where, and what their usual 'hobbies' include. They notice things, and if bribed with a large enough sum of money, or in some cases drugs, they will speak.

All of this helped me narrow my search to the owner of a maroon deathtrap, commonly referred to as a car. His name being Alexander Nox. Local "scientist" and self proclaimed genius, he was known widely through the community as the meth dealer. Supplying the lower income people with the addictive poison. He is unstable, reactive, and a threat to be around for too long.

Looking through the window of his rundown trailer, its obvious that there was a struggle. The door swings slightly in the light autumn breeze, left open while a trail of broken glass and chairs that were thrown leads past the dented fridge, following droplets of fresh blood.

Heart in throat, I creep around to the door and enter as quietly as possible, manifesting into a physical form and trying not to step on the glass. Maybe if I had acted while Elliott was in school, this wouldn't have happened. Maybe I could have scared those punks away from him. Maybe I could have saved him before the trouble began.

A dull thud brings me out of my thoughts. The noise is accompanied by a groan of pain. "Wake up. We don't have all day, you little rat." A harsh voice speaks, and my blood begins to boil.

"I've been called many things,"Elliott's voice sounds through the hall shakily, he sounds scared and out of breath, "little is not one of them."

Now is not the time for humor, Elliott. I think to myself, pulling the long serrated knife from my utility belt, flipping it to a ready position.

Nox must have hit him again, this time the sound of something hitting flesh was accompanied with a crack and a cut off scream. "You don't understand the gravity of this situation." I hear his steps move to the opposite side of the room and decide to slip closer to the door. "I have you here as a test subject. I'm going to study you. You are not going to survive this encounter."

This time tears can be heard in Elliott's voice as he says, "at least I can go down knowing that you, Alex." He takes a breath and my foot lands on some glass, crunching echoing through the nearly destroyed mobile home. "That you are in a trouble that you cannot escape."

Alexander cracks something against Elliott one last time before stomping his way to the door. He rounds the corner only to see me, eyes glowing red as I pounce.


	2. Get Help

It is over quickly. Hands, floor, walls. All stained red. The carcass of what used to be Alexander Nox lies on the ground only a few feet from me. I stand over the gore, breathing heavily. I wipe my hands on on my jacket and attempt to calm my breathing. It has been a while since I have had to be involved physically. I had almost forgotten what the kill felt like. 

"Alex." Elliott groans from inside the room. "Come finish me off, coward."

I go to take off my mask, deciding against it as soon as my gloved fingers touch the clasps.

Elliott coughs and I can hear him attempting to move. The chair clatters to the side, taking him with it.

"Do not be afraid... I am only here to help you." I speak in the least threatening voice that I can manage while stepping into the doorway, arms raised and hands open. "I will untie you, if that is okay."

Elliott looks up at me with this look in his eyes. A look that asked some questions and had some emotions that I haven't been able to experience in years. "I don't know if I can trust you." Blood drips across his forehead, sticking his hair to his face. "What happened to Alex, where did he go?"

"Alexander is someone you will not need to worry about." Slowly, I approach; my posture relaxed and somewhat friendly. "I do not know how to call for help, you will need to do that for yourself." I keep my hands up as I crouch beside him. "I just need you to let me help. you do not have to trust me completely." My hands move for the knife strapped to my belt.

His eyes follow my hands down and widen with panic. "Wait. Wait, I don't want that." Elliott attempts to shimmy away from me, "Don't."

"Then I drag you out of here, chair and all." This is annoying, but I understand. "I only want to help you, Elliott." I say, trying not to let my feelings into my voice.

With a sigh Elliott suggests that I just bring him a "phone" and let him talk. "It would work better." He explains.

And that's what I do. I dial the number and set the "phone" next to his head. "I must leave before help arrives. It would be a mess to explain." My chest feels heavy as I tell him this, and that look he gives me certainly doesn't help.

Those scared brown eyes that I have come to love watch me as I walk across the room to the window. The dark circles under Elliott's eyes are either a trick of the light or he is exausted, and I wouldn't blame him. The window looks like someone had put film on it, to keep people from looking out, more likely from looking in. I shrug this off and pull the window open, letting some much needed fresh air into the stuffy room.

The sound of sirens approaches much faster than I had anticipated. Sometime between opening the window and the sound of boots crunching on glass, Elliott had passed out. In a rush I return to my usual intangible form. I watch the chaos silently, them attempting to wake Elliott, discovering Alexander in the hallway, and carting Elliott off in an ambulance. 


	3. Hospital

The ambulance ride felt longer than it probably was. With two people other than Elliott inside, it wasn't as chaotic as I had seen many ambulances be. 

The usual tension was there, stress was radiating off of the nurse in nauseating waves. I stood off to the side feeling Elliott drift in and out of consciousness, each time he went under I felt his time grow closer. My heart would be in my throat, if I could feel it as I am now. 

He looks dead already, lying there. Still, pale, un-moving. The wires attached to his exposed chest tell the nurse that he is still alive, but doesn't have much time. 

She tells the driver to hurry.

If only I could help. If only I could reach out and heal him.

Elliott returns to consciousness, barely long enough to look around and see me in the corner. I know he sees me. All humans see Death in the room when they are close to their end.

I rarely feel bad for them, children are usually the only exception. But my dear Elliott breaks my heart more than any of the other humans I have seen. 

His eyes roll back in his head and the monitor shrieks, screaming that something is wrong. 

I know that he is gone. 

I will not take him.

His story is not over, not if I have anything to say about it.

His soul rises above his chest, baby blue and confused. "Oh no you don't!" I say aloud as I stuff it back where it belongs, my hands holding it in place as the stretcher is taken into the hospital and a room that is too white for all of the things it has seen. 

A man in a blue suit shocks Elliott twice before I can remove my hands, the soul finally staying inside Elliott's body.

I take my hands off of him and back away a few paces. 

The color returns to Elliott's face slowly as the doctors determine a pulse. I already know that there will be a steady pulse, but it is still comforting to hear from an outside source that he is alive. 

Hours pass until he is finally alone. I go into a bathroom and switch back into a more tangible form. This time I take off my mask and goggles, leaving myself with a dirty face and some clothes that should probably be changed. After a thorough face scrubbing, and a quick detangling of the hair using my hands, I peek into the hall and spot a cart with some clothes. Coast is clear, I dart out and quickly back into the bathroom with clothes. 

These clothes are nothing special. Jeans, a tee shirt, and my boots. I should tie my hair up.

The mirror shows me, skin pink from the assault of paper towels, dark hair a mess around my face and neck, blue and green eyes staring back at me, and oh boy I am a mess. With a sigh I attempt to style my hair, freezing halfway through. Why do I care? It's not like he's gonna care. It's just gonna be a quick visit, a brief introduction.

I settle for tying my hair into a quick ponytail, exiting the bathroom soon after. The sound of my boots echo down the halls softly as the sounds of various equipment whir and beep. I pause outside of his room. What am I gonna say to him? "Hey its the eldritch being that saved your ass. Hello, I am Death, your personal supernatural being." Any of the things I come up with just don't sound right.

I'll figure something out later. For now I simply walk into his room. It's a small room, one bed and enough standing room for three and whoever wants to sit in the uncomfortable looking chair in the corner. After dragging the chair over I sit in it backwards with the back of it between my legs.

Should I wake him up? 

I just stare for a while, torn between letting him sleep and bringing him back into this chaotic mess. I watch his face. It doesn't change too much, are humans supposed to be still like this? He is not dead, that much I know, but aside from the color in his cheeks he looks it.

I must have sat there for at least an hour before gently shaking his shoulder. "Elliott... Elliott, it is time for you to wake."

All that earns me is a mumbled, "not right now," as he pulls the covers over himself again.

"Elliott please, it is nine in the afternoon. You will be able to sleep later." And with that the covers are off.

Now there are many noises I have heard Elliott make, but I have never heard him growl before... I think I may have pissed him off.

"Listen here, fucko. I'm tired as hell and it would be nice if you wou- if you..." He trails off after turning and looking at me. "Who are you?"

Ah, there it is the question I didn't want him to ask. "I am a person that most people are familiar with." Too cryptic. Come on hound, tell him who you are. "I am, my name is Blóðhundur, you may call me Bloodhound." Good job, Hound.

"Bloodhound... Sounds fake, but okay." Elliott presses his hand against his cheek and moves his eyes to the ceiling. "So, Bloodhound, if that even is your name, what brings you to my room? How do you know me, and why does your voice sound so familiar?"

He has every right to be skeptic, but it feels like he doesn't even know me... Oh yeah. "Bloodhound, it is more of an alias." I say while adjusting my shoulders in an attempt to look more relaxed. "I chose it for myself, my actual name is not important. I know you because I have been watching you, not in a creepy way. More like a guardian angel type way." If he wasn't freaked out before, he is now. If you found out someone was watching you, you would be freaked out too. Probably would make you lock your door better. I continue to stumble over words, trying to make it seem less creepy, and I do not think it is working. "But I wanted to make sure you were okay and I figured that I should introduce myself..."

Elliott sits himself up further and looks me in the eye. "So you're telling me that you watched my mom while she had me, and for whatever reason, you decided to stick around." I only nod in response. "Why were you there? What was your purpose in being there?"

"That is tricky to answer." My stomach feels hot and I take a breath to steady myself. The look Elliott gives me says to hurry and explain. "You were not supposed to live more than two hours after birth, and your mother was meant to have even less time." My hands move in my lap, twisting over themselves in nervousness. "You and your mother, both of you were one of the few that I oversaw directly."

"You're lying. You _have_ to be lying." His eyes are wide, he wants to run. Fucking hell Hound, you're scaring the poor boy. "My mom was just fine when she had me. She wasn't sick or any-"

"Ask your mother next time you see her." I interrupt. "Just because she was not sick, that does not mean that something did not go wrong." 

He looks shaken, and he has every right to be."Hand me my phone, I can call her." 

"What is a phone?"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> well yeet i'm sorry for not posting this sooner


End file.
